Indelible Sin
by pseudonym
Summary: The only way to be free from the past is to look onwards and forgive yourself. How does one go about doing such a thing? Sometimes, the answer is staring you right in the face. All you have to do is embrace it. • ShuichiEiri •


Okay, okay, sorry about the delay. I'm lazy, what can I say? This part has actually been written for ten months now. I just never went back to finish it. So, instead of my original intention of posting a one-shot, I've decided to post this in two parts. At least it's something!

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**Inerasable Sin  
**(1/2)

**_With you in my usual sight, I can breathe  
Even though that's already plenty enough to me _**

The apartment is dark and almost deadly silent, but I know better. I swallow the loud greeting I was about to let loose and instead slip my shoes off as quietly as possible and carefully shut the front door. My keys are set down on the foyer table, although I am sure that come tomorrow morning I will have forgotten where I have placed them. As I move across the apartment, my bag is dropped at the edge of the tiled foyer floor.

The soft click of your computer's keys and the faint glow of light that peeks out from underneath your study door confirm that you are home. I hazard a guess that you have a deadline coming up, as you have been shut up in that room for nearly three days straight now. In the years that we have been together, I have come to learn that it is best to leave you alone when you are in your study, and especially when you are coming close to a deadline.

Upon arriving at your study, I press my ear to the door. Your typing stops for a moment and you let out a sigh; there is a brief pause before your coffee mug is set down with an audible thud and then your typing resumes once more. You like to work in complete silence, which is something that I still do not understand to this day. Silence, to me, is the worst sound in the world. There's something so foreboding… so _final_ about silence. I am a person who thrives on sound, and any sound at that, whether it be music, or the drumming of fingers on a table, or even the sound of my own voice, which I know irritates you.

With a sigh I push those thoughts to the back of my mind to be pondered at a later time. I am here on a mission and unlike the previous three nights failed attempts, I am determined to be successful in dragging you out of your dark cavern, even if it is only to eat. You spend entirely too much time in there by yourself. It really is not healthy. Humans were made to be around other people; we are social beings. Even if you deny it, Eiri, you know that you enjoy having company, even if it is only me.

"Yuki?" I rap my knuckles against the door lightly and then twist the doorknob when I do not hear any indication of being heard. Only when I step into the room do you stop clicking away, and even then you do not say anything. I hate it when you are like this. I would rather you yell at me than not speak to me at all. A person can only handle being ignored for so long, Eiri, did you know that?

"Yuki?" I repeat myself again and then shut the door behind me and advance towards your desk. As I come closer, the bags under your eyes are evident and your skin is rather pale. _Of course_, I chide myself, _if all he has eaten in the past few days is coffee and cigarettes, what do you expect him to look like?_ However, as colourless and worn your face is, your eyes are an entirely different story.

Your eyes are still sharp and focused. They look a little darker than usual, a more amber yellow as opposed to their usual golden hue. Even if your body is still, your eyes are full of energy, always darting around and observing the world around you. We are the same in the sense of being full of energy; I just happen to express it with my body. Right now, your gaze is trained on me and your brow is furrowed in annoyance. I open my mouth but before I can even get a word out, you've interrupted me.

"What do you want?"

Your tone is cold. Your long and slender fingers fumble for a cigarette and then you curse loudly when you find that your crumpled pack is devoid of what you want. Are cigarettes something that you want, Eiri, or, are they something that you need? What is it about that rush of nicotine coursing through your veins that soothes you? You are a very smart man and should know that nicotine addiction is nothing more than a physical affinity. There are healthier ways to calm yourself, although you are not even open to trying something new.

Before I go to answer, I step behind your chair and place my hands on your shoulders. My hands are very small in comparison to your broad shoulders. I think the size difference between the two of us is partially why I am attracted to you. Where I am very slender with feminine features, you are built the way a man should be: with broad shoulders and an angled face with sharp, defined features. You are the dominant one in our relationship, although, there are certain tactics that I have found that work wonders in getting you to listen to me.

My fingers curl around your shoulders and you draw in a deep breath. I hush you before you can say anything and whisper in your ear, requesting that you do not move. Once your head has fallen back to rest on your chair and your eyes have drifted shut, a sure sign that you are relaxed, I begin to knead my thumbs into the space between your shoulder blades.

**_The petty me does nothing but repeat mistakes  
How strong a strength do I need to have so that nothing will get hurt?_**

As I continue to work on relieving your tension, your left hand begins to ascend upwards until your fingers are grasping at the ends of my hair. This reminds me that I am past due for a haircut, even if you always comment on how stupid I look once I have returned from the salon. You tell me how cute I am when my pink fringe is not partially covering my eyes and then turn around and scold me when I listen to what you say and get a different hairstyle so that my hair is away from my face. I wish you would just come out and tell me what you want, sometimes. As much fun as guessing games are, nearly everything that revolves around you is one, and that becomes irritating after a while.

After finishing with your back and shoulders, I move my hands down the sides of your arms, moving my head in the same direction as I travel, until my chin is resting on your shoulder. You give a little shudder and your hand moves and buries itself in my hair, tugging and twirling the strands in and around your fingers.

"Yuki," I try again, trying to keep my voice as level as possible and keeping my own fingers from strangling your arm, even though I would like nothing more than to scream your name out loud and grab you by your shirt, demanding that you pay attention to me..

This time you answer me. Even if it is only with an 'Mmhmm…,' I know that I have at least a bit of your attention, which is better than nothing, but still not what I am aiming for.

"How about…" I let my fingers dance down your arms and then across your chest and downwards until they reach your belt. It is at this time that I let my tongue dart out to lick the outer curve of your ear, eliciting a low groan to grumble from your throat. It is a sad thing when I have to seduce you in order to get you to eat. "…you take a break and let me make you something to eat? You're looking so-"

Your fingers pull tightly at my hair and I wince. "Absolutely not." In less than two seconds you are sitting up straight in your chair once more and have shrugged me off of your shoulders.

"Can't you see that I'm working?" Then, with a hiss you add 'stupid brat' on to the end.

"But Yuki…!" Even as the words leave my mouth I know that they will fall upon deaf… ignorant ears. Mission failed for the fourth night straight. Your rejection still stings, even if I should be used to it by now. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. You know I care about you, Yuki, and all I want is for you to be healthy and happy. All you want for me is to get lost and leave you alone.

Your typing resumes and I know that whatever I say now will be ignored, not that it would be anything new. So, I turn on my heel and walk out of the room. Just before I shut the door, I turn around to catch you staring at me… in some sort of wonder. Maybe it is because I just gave up after one try this time, or maybe you're in awe at how quiet I am, but whatever it is, I cannot be bothered to stand there and decipher what you are thinking. With a small, false smile I close the door and make my way to the kitchen to make another lonely dinner for one. What else is new?

**_Without hesitation, I believe in this love and live on  
I'll tightly embrace your unbandaged wound_**

It has been three days since I last attempted to get you to come out of your study. After that last rejection, I finally admitted to myself that nothing short of power failure would make you leave, and even then, it would have to be one that lasted longer then your laptop's battery, to warrant any sort of reaction out of you. I look out of the balcony window to see the clear blue sky and the sun shining happily, and I know that yet another day will be wasted away.

Normally when you are like this, I put in extra hours at the studio, begging Suguru or Hiro, and sometimes even both of them, to stay behind for a while to work on a new remix or test out a new melody that has been tinkering around in my head. However, this past week has been quite uneventful. We just finished recording tracks for our third album and K is allowing a couple of weeks for rest and relaxation.

Rest and relaxation really means that K is going home to America to visit with his family. Hiro, who I usually hang around with during these rare occasions where K allows us to slack off, is not in town. He opted to go and stay for a few days with Ayaka, up in Kyoto. That leaves four more people I could spend this time with.

The most obvious answer is a most definite 'no'. I swear, you must ask for your deadlines to coincide with my time off. My second choice would be to hang around with Ryuichi, however, I know he is gearing up for a reunion tour with Nittle Grasper, and I do not want to impede on that preparation time; I know how vital it is to be in tip top shape before beginning a tour. Anything less than being fully rested will drag you down within a few days and it is difficult to rejuvenate yourself while sleeping odd hours and eating crappy food. Since Sakuma-san's out, this brings me to my third choice, Suguru.

Suguru, I love the kid; I really do, although the tension between us can sometimes become really thick. However, the few, okay, one of the many issues I have with my dark-haired friend is his personality; it is so much like Tohma's that it is borderline scary. I know it really is not his entire fault, as the two of them are cousins, so it must be some gene that runs through the family, but would it kill him to loosen up for once in his life? The guy is not even twenty yet and he has an ulcer. Unless we are on stage or sitting with a keyboard and a mic, it really is not a good idea to leave the two of us alone; we have been known to squabble over miniscule details for hours on end.

Now, my last choice is the choice that will only ever occur if pigs could fly: spending time with my family. You may think that this does not sound like a bad thing, but in the case of my parents, it is a horrible choice. Maiko would probably have a fit if I came home; she would have to give up one of her rooms, one of which is mine, not to mention she would have to share the bathroom again. In addition to this, my parents still think that being a rock star is not an appropriate career choice. Never mind the fact that the amount of money I make in three months is equivalent to my father's entire year's pay, I still chose badly in picking out a suitable career. Oh, and on top of being a rock star, I am a _gay_ rock star. Well, I do not think of me as being 'gay' per say, but that is exactly what my mother and father call it.

So the person I fall in love with happens to be male as well. I did not think it was the end of the world. Hiro did not think it was the end of the world. In fact, I do not think anyone has had a problem with the two of us being together besides Ayaka, Tohma, and my parents. Ayaka was my first real competition for you, and somehow, I ended up with the long end of the stick on that one. I still think that she gave in way too easily… she knew I would ultimately win. If I want something bad enough, I will keep on trying until I get it.

As for Tohma, well, I can tell that he does not approve of our relationship. I do not know if it is for personal reasons or professional reasons… perhaps it is a bit of both, but Tohma has always come across as though I am a nuisance to him: a very profitable nuisance, but a nuisance nonetheless. Somehow, I cannot help but think that your and Tohma's relationship is more than just a very strong (fucked up) friendship. It has nothing to do with sex, but the two of you connect in a way that I know you and I never will.

What went on in your past is something that you will never fully bring to the surface. You have given me the bare details, the ones that give me a basic idea of what occurred. The rest you have tucked securely away in a place that you think is well hidden, but it really is not. Your problems are very visible and are still very real. Despite the fact that you think that what is in the past is in the past, you still have not let yourself move on; that is why you are so intent on hurting me, even if you do not realize that you are.

**_And together we'll keep on walking, because we can't go back  
Even now, the inerasable sin deep in my chest hurts, but-  
Darling_**

It is nearly five in the morning. With a shiver I pull the thick duvet tighter around my body and snuggle deeper down into my pillow. I missed your warmth and tried to compensate for it by dragging out the thick blanket, but it just was not the same. You did not come to bed again last night. My back is to the open window so that I am facing the right side of the bed, your side of the bed.

The sound of your breathing lulls me to sleep most nights. It is always coupled with your scent which is mixed in with cigarettes, beer, and occasionally toothpaste. You have very good hygiene for being a hermit. I think you keep a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste in your desk drawer for those many nights where you lock yourself away in the study.

I watch the red digital numbers of the alarm clock slide from five-oh-two to five-one-four to five-four-seven. Alright, enough is enough. If I am still awake at this hour, there is little chance that I will sleep at all. The covers are pushed to the bottom of the bed in one quick movement. The coolness of the morning air, coupled with the always cold apartment, almost makes me jump back under the savoury warmth of the sheets.

It is like walking on ice when my feet hit the floor, so I hurry to grab a robe and a pair of slippers. I inhale your scent again through your fluffy black bathrobe. You hate it when I borrow your clothes, but I still do so anyways. Wearing your clothing is almost like being wrapped in your embrace; the scent and size of your shirts and pants keep me warm. Since your displays of affection are few and far between, so I use these as a substitute, even if it is a poor one.

The moment I step out of the bedroom I can hear the clicking of your computer keys. You are still up, working away. How can you write anything well if you are running low on energy and rest? You are going to make yourself sick. You are going to make yourself even sicker than you already are. Have you even been taking your medications? I make a quick stop in the kitchen to retrieve several coloured medication bottles from the cupboard by the fridge. This has got to stop; you are going to hurt yourself.

The door to your study still remains closed. A stale waft of cigarette smoke escapes from the room as I turn the handle and let myself in. I do not even bother to knock. You can push me away all you like, Eiri; you can call me a brat and put me down. Hell, you can even throw me out of the house like you usually do, but this time I am not giving in. This time I will come out victorious. I must be a sucker for punishment.

There are times when you appear to think that I do not understand you, Eiri. Perhaps you think that you are hiding behind your cool, hard mask, but what you do not know, is that while your mask is seamlessly perfect, your eyes betray what your body language, tone, and choice of words are attempting to disguise.

I know you like having me around, even if you will not admit it. Eiri, you've thrown me out countless times, belittled me, yelled at me, threatened me with death, and ignored me. You seem to think that by doing these things that I will eventually leave. I have told you before and I will tell you until the day that you die… since we both know your smoking and anal-retentive personality will cause you to be the first one to go, that I love you, Eiri.

I think I may have loved you the very first time I laid eyes on you. Even then, your first words to me were hurtful ones. However, I know now that your nastiness is a form of self-defence that you use, along with putting up an 'I-don't-give-a-fuck-what-you-think-of-me attitude', to shut people out. You think that by letting people in, you will end up hurt again, so you do not let anyone in. No one can reject you if you reject them first.

The thing you have to realize is that not everyone is a heartless bastard like Yuki. You say that you love him, and that he loved you, yet he 'sold' you for ten dollars! Ten dollars, Eiri! You are worth more than ten dollars. In fact, you are priceless to me. The only way that I will give you up is if I die, and even then I will wait for you until you follow. You will never get rid of me. Even if our relationship fizzles, I will always be your friend. I will love you as my friend and as a lover, even if you do not feel the same way. You are the most precious thing to me; you mean more to me than the success of Bad Luck does, do you know that? Do you even care?

**_I remember the painfulness of the love I lost back then  
I'm a little perplexed by the vivid blueness of this sky_**

Your eyes are half lidded with dark bags under them and your fingers are moving at a much slower pace than they were the night before. The ashtray by your lamp is so full that if there were anymore butts in the little tray, they would begin to litter the desk. You must have found a spare package lying around, or you slipped out sometime to get some more and I did not notice. Cigarette packets, crumpled up sheets of paper, and a smashed coffee mug cover the floor, as well as the overturned trash basket. Yes, you have definitely been cooped up in here for much too long.

"Ohayou." Kicking trash and paper out of the way, I make my way to your desk and stop when I am standing beside you.

Your fingers cease movement after a moment and you acknowledge my presence with a grunt. While I wait for you to say something, at the very least a 'get out', I set your pills on the desk and press a kiss to your right temple. Just as I am about to pull away, your hand clamps itself to the back of my head to guide me to your face where you capture my lips with your own.

This is a position that I am used to. I know now that you are nearly, if not already, finished what you are working on. It is the same as it is with every deadline: you work yourself up into an agitated frenzy, locking yourself in the study, and when you're finished, you are all over me, as if making up for that lost time. While I love the fact that you are paying attention to me, I wish it was a constant happening, not just something that you only do when you are feeling needy or deprived.

You have pulled me on to your lap now and I shift myself to straddle your legs, not breaking the kiss. I am so much smaller than you that we can both fit on your chair without being squashed or cramped for room. This is not a bad thing as it comes in very handy for occasions such as this.

My hands cup your face as I pull back to take a deep breath. I love it when you leave me breathless with a single kiss. I can tell the difference between needy-Eiri and deprived-Eiri by your kisses. Usually you give me quick, small kisses, and very rarely are they on the mouth, which is when you are in the mood for sex, which is not as often as one might think. This usually is the case and occurs after a band or book-signing tour, which is at least several times a year for each of us. Then, you have the blocks of time within the year where you have your deadlines and I am holed up in the studio. When we finally get a day to ourselves, it is as though you are trying to swallow me whole with your mouth and you cannot keep your hands from sliding all over me.

However, today you are in a needy mood. The kiss was a deep, long one, which instead of being harsh or nippy, was sensual and almost tentative. I think that you are needier than you let on. You pretend that you do not give a damn about anyone or anything, and that you are perfectly fine with being by yourself for the rest of your life. However, your record of one-night stands leads me to believe otherwise. You do not like the thought that you are alone. You try and make yourself feel better, feel in control of the situation, by constantly seeking out a companion. Your largest problem is, unfortunately, you pick the ones who want you for your body, your money, or your status as a celebrity.

"I love you." I say softly, finally, having been sitting still for nearly half a minute now, though it seems like much more than that. I move a hand to brush your hair out of your eyes and then kiss your forehead. "I love you so much that it hurts sometimes."

Your hands move to untie the bathrobe and you slide your arms into the folds of fabric and around my waist, pressing your face into the crook of my neck. Your breath is hotter than usual against my skin and your hold tightens around me as you whisper unintelligible words.

"Eiri?" I inquire a moment later, once the words have left your mouth and your breath is now exhaling in a steady rhythm on to my chest. When you do not answer, I am hardly surprised; you always work yourself past the point of exhaustion. The occasions where you have literally fallen on your face into a deep sleep are too numerous to count.

**_For example, even if I sacrificed something, I'd only believe in one thing  
The color of the bloomed flowers in the instant when your straightforward eyes reflect_**

When you finally emerge from your bedroom, it is well past noon. It took me a while to wake you up enough to persuade you that you would be much more comfortable in your bed. Once your body hit the mattress, I had to pull your legs on to the bed and pull your arm out from underneath yourself so that you would not wake up with pins and needles. After that I switched off the alarm clock that was still set to go off at seven o'clock and shuffled out to the kitchen to read the comics.

"Ohayou" I greet brightly as you move to fill your cup with coffee. How you drink that stuff is beyond me, and without any sugar no less.

You flick a cool stare in my direction and let out an 'hn' in response. That's alright though. I know not to expect any sort of verbal communication until you have caffeine running through your bloodstream. So, I continue on with my one-sided conversation as I usually do.

"I've got to go into the studio today. Hiro and Suguru have been working on this really great melody and I think I have the perfect lyrics for it. Do you wanna hear?"

You let out a cough and then firmly shake your head as an answer as you sit down at the table, shoving the comics to one side and picking up the front page.

In turn, I slide my chair over, closer to yours.

"Well, that's fine then. I guess you'll hear it when you come to the next concert, right? You are going to come this time, aren't you?" Last time, you said that you would make it, but cancelled at the last minute. Apparently, Mizuki phoned while I was at rehearsal and needed to go over some major editing changes as soon as possible. Right.

This time, you let out another cough and shrug, ruffling the pages of newsprint to smooth them out before folding the front section in half and then half again. Your hand moves to your cup, tracing the rim with your pointer finger, before slightly tipping the cup to peer at its (lack of) contents.

"Another… cup?" Your voice is rough and scratchy. I don't know whether it is from lack of use, or the beginning of a cold. Either way, you let out another cough.

"Of course, Yuki!" I grab the mug and jump up from my seat to the counter. After I place the steaming cup back down, I move my hand to your forehead. You don't even move to brush my hand away. How could I have not noticed that you are getting sick?

"Are you sick?" I ask bluntly, my brows furrowing in concern. You don't get sick often, but when you do, it's always bad. You never ever tell me that you're not feeling well either; it's only when the symptoms really start to show that you let anything on.

"You need to go back to bed." I state firmly, moving my hand from your burning forehead to cup your cheek. There are bags under your eyes, and your breath is hot against my wrist. You look horrible.

"I'm fine," you say, smacking my hand away and pushing your chair back. "I need to finish the last chapter." You are about half-way to your study before you are doubled-over in another coughing fit.

By the time I scramble from my seat to your side, you have slid down against the back of the couch, your hand cupped to your mouth. When I move to touch you, you flinch and turn your head away, your hair falling to shade your eyes. I am distracted for a moment as I mentally note to set up an appointment for a hair-cut for you.

"… Seguchi-san…" is all that I catch from your sentence.

"Yuki?" I ask, bending down, attempting to move your hand from your mouth so that I can hear you better. I know why your hand is across your mouth, you know why your hand is there… so I don't see why you're so insistent on not letting me touch you. I know there's blood, I've seen it before.

With another slap to my hand, you block my attempt to touch you again. "Don't… touch me," you rasp out slowly, trying to keep the tell-tale gurgle out of your speech, but I don't miss it. I have musician ears, Eiri, you should know that. When I'm focused, which I am now, I have impeccable hearing. I have to, it's my job. What good is a singer who doesn't have proper ear training?

With a sigh I pull a Kleenex from my pocket and hand it to you. I know what is coming next. You always ask for him. You already did, I just missed the first part of the sentence. Never mind that I am here, always willing to help you and support you… you turn to Tohma. Always… Tohma.

Wordlessly I stand to go and grab the portable phone from the coffee table.

**_Even if I'm powerless, I'll live on strongly in this destiny_**


End file.
